


Mind the Time

by Reyka_Sivao



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Betchdel, Female Character In Command, Friendship, Gen, POV Female Character, Technobabble, Temporal Paradox, Time Loop, Time Travel, Trekfest, Women Being Awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-27
Updated: 2014-01-27
Packaged: 2018-01-10 05:48:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1155845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reyka_Sivao/pseuds/Reyka_Sivao
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Janeway and several crew members take the Delta Flier into an anomalous area.  Chroniton fluctuations ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mind the Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [raktajinos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raktajinos/gifts).



> Written for the Trekfest exchange, which sadly seems to have fizzled out. Raktajinos--I hope this was what you were hoping for!

Captain’s log, supplemental. 

We’ve paused briefly to examine an anomaly that might offer a little deuterium for our time.  There is too much turbulence from a nearby ion storm to take the ship in closer, but the Delta Flier should be able intersect it without incident.  Since we’ve picked up some intriguing readings, I’m indulging in accompanying the away team.  It should be a simple enough mission, with minimal risk.

* * *

“Ten degrees to port!”

The Flier shuddered and twisted as it tried to spare its riders the turbulence of the ion storm.

“Would you quit doing that?  I can barely keep up with the damage to the compressors!”

“Would you rather—”

“Displacement wave at mark seven-ten point one.”

The shuttle dove again, and Janeway found herself wishing beyond all logical measure that she’d had that second cup of coffee this morning.  It definitely was _not_ a one-coffee kind of day.

She stared down into her scanner at the swirling pattern of ions.  “Starboard thirty degrees!”

“Displacement wave to starboard,” cut in Tuvok from his own scanner.  “Adjust course z-negative twenty degrees.”

The shuttle shook again as Seven struggled to reconcile the contradictory courses, and Janeway’s lips tightened as she looked for more areas of dangerous turbulence.

The ion storm shouldn’t have been a problem—the Delta Flier’s shields should have been more than enough—but almost as soon as they had entered the zone of the anomaly and started collecting deuterium, the shuttle had been rocked by some sort of displacement wave that cut their shields down to almost nothing.  None of them had yet determined the origin or nature of the waves, since the physical sourcepoint appeared to be nothing but empty space.

The shuttle keeled as another thruster went dark.

“Please repair compressor 32-A,” said Seven of Nine with as much force as she ever gave anything.

“I could keep up a lot better if you didn’t keep blowing them out!” shouted B’Elanna from the back of the Flier, spitting out the tool she was gripping in her teeth to say it.  “I thought those Borg reflexes of yours were supposed to prevent this!”

“My reflexes are operating within acceptable parameters,” said Seven, making several more course corrections as she spoke, “but they will be useless without a set of working engines.”

“I’m doing the best I can!” called B’Elanna as she flung herself to a new repair.

“The displacement waves are growing stronger,” cut in Tuvok, ignoring them.  “Levels of gravitons and chronitons increasing.”

“Can we get out of the way?” asked Janeway.

“Temporarily,” he said.  “The waves are spreading out from the sourcepoint, but there currently seem to be safe zones above and below the anomaly relative to our position.”

Janeway stole a glance at his readout.  Sure enough, there was still an hourglass-shaped cone free of displacement waves centered on the empty bit of space they’d dubbed the sourcepoint.

“Let’s get there,” said Janeway.

“Two-zero-one mark five,” said Tuvok, and Seven complied.

Janeway spun back to her own readout.  “Avoid that ion cluster at mark four,” she instructed.

The Flier gave one last shudder and then steadied as they finally sailed into clear space.

Janeway sat back and breathed.

“About time,” muttered B’Elanna, and set about repairing the damaged shuttle.

Tuvok glanced up at something, and then turned to Janeway.  “Unfortunately,” he said, “the safe zone appears to be shrinking.  I would estimate that the displacement waves will reach a full spherical formation in approximately sixteen minutes.”

Janeway’s head stabbed with sudden pain.  She really should have had that second coffee.  Tuvok looked at her, and Janeway waved a hand dismissively and resisted the urge to rub her temples.

“Can we get out of range through the safe zone?” she asked.

“That would take us through the worst of the ion storm.”

“The shields can’t take that right now, captain!” called Torres from the back.  “We’d have to get the back up to at least eighty percent before we could risk it!”

“Can you do that in sixteen minutes?” asked Janeway.

“I’ll try,” B’Elanna called back.  “But I’d start looking for a backdoor if I were you.”

Janeway nodded, not that B’Elanna could see her, and turned to the others.  “What do we know?”

Seven, momentarily not concerned with piloting, had turned her screen to a clone of Tuvok’s.  “Captain, there are strong indications of temporal flux.”

Tuvok nodded and tapped his own screen.  “Chroniton levels have risen considerably since we entered this sector.  They also appear to be emanating from the sourcepoint of the displacement waves.”

Janeway again fought off the urge to try and rub away the dull ache behind her eyes.  “That would explain why there’s nothing there.”

“Standard does not contain enough tenses to cover every eventuality,” said Seven, “but the initiating event appears to have yet to have happened.”

“So, in sixteen minutes…”

“Fifteen,” corrected Tuvok.

“Fifteen minutes,” said Janeway, “something is going to happen to cause all this?”

“That is not an unreasonable hypothesis,” said Tuvok.

That time, Janeway did rub her head.

“Let’s try to be out of here before then.  I do _not_ want to get involved with time travel.  Again.”  She had enough of a headache as it was, though the thought of avoiding anything to do with the adjective ‘temporal’ helped.

Tuvok glanced up at something she couldn’t see. “Assuming that’s possible, that would be wise.”

“Oh, it’s possible,” snapped Janeway.  “I don’t care if we un-cause the event and forget it ever happened.  I am _not_ dealing with time travel today.”

Tuvok only raised an eyebrow and looked back at his screen.

“We could attempt to attune the shields to the phase variance of the displacement waves,” suggested Seven, “and avoid the worst of the ion storm by going through the edges of the anomalous zone.”

“That’s suicide!” called B’Elanna.  “Even if we could cut through the displacement waves like a hot knife through butter, we still don’t have the shields to risk the storm!”

“In either case,” shot back Seven, “your only task would be to repair the shields.”

“Working on it!  I don’t see you helping!”

“Nor have you suggested any solutions.”

B’Elanna sat back on her heels.  “Solutions?  Fine.  Since there’s apparently already time travel involved, let’s never have come on this godforsaken mission in the first place!”  She dove back under the bulkhead.  “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m trying to fix the stuff that’s keeping us alive!”

Janeway rubbed her head.  “By all means, Lieutenant Torres.”  She glanced between her two remaining officers.  “Tuvok,” she said, deciding, “help Torres with repairs.  Seven and I will look for another option.”

Tuvok nodded and swung out of his seat, and Janeway moved next to Seven.  “Let’s see that data,” she said.  “And you should really stop provoking her.”

“I was not being inaccurate,” said Seven.  “Here are the chroniton charts.”

“Points you responded to,” said Janeway, blinking at the screen.  “Where are the highest levels?”

Seven pointed at the screen.  “Greatest concentration is at the sourcepoint.  Levels appear to have expanded in a planar disc at first, but the distortion field is expanding towards a full sphere.  The ‘hourglass’ is narrowing.  Given chroniton levels, it appears that the first waves from the initiating event went backwards in time ‘faster’ than the rest.”

“And chroniton levels are rising proportionately across the board,” said Janeway.  “If we want to get out of here before the initiating event, we’re going to have to get out of here before the chroniton flux levels stars affecting our systems.”

“That is assuming that we are not already involved in the initiating event.”

Janeway rubbed her head.  “An assumption I’m going to make,” she said tiredly.  “The last thing we need is to start second-guessing ourselves.”  Her head pounded.  She glanced back at the two officers working on the shields, and saw Tuvok giving her a look.  She smiled and gave him an ‘I’m fine’ half-nod.

She turned back to Seven.  “All right,” she said.  “You said you could remodulate the shields.  Go ahead and start that.  Maybe we can at least reduce the strain on the shields.”

Seven nodded and started tapping on the screen.  “Lieutenant Torres is correct that it will not be enough if she cannot repair the shields adequately.”

Janeway sighed.  “Any chance we could ride the shockwaves?”

“That would only exacerbate the problem.  We do not have enough shields to risk the ion storm at normal speeds.”

“Right,” said Janeway, looking at the screen. 

“However,” added Seven, “The ion storm does not reach to the other end out the hourglass.  There is a possibility that we could go through or around the sourcepoint.  Unfortunately, chroniton levels are already high enough in that area to cause significant sensor disruption.”

“So we’d be flying blind, best case,” said Janeway.  “Worst case, we run smack into whatever’s giving off these waves, quite possibly setting off the reaction in the first place.  Or the last place.”  She rubbed her head again.  “I’ll keep it in mind, but I’d rather not risk it.  If we fix the shields, can we just ride it out where we are?”

“Unknown.  I will run probability referentials.”

Janeway nodded.  “No matter what, we need shields.  I’m going to help repairs.”

Seven nodded shortly and turned back to the screen.  Janeway swung out of the seat and headed for the back.

Tuvok intercepted her before she got there.

“Captain,” he said.  “There may be something you should know.”

Janeway’s head throbbed again.  “That can’t be good.”

“I am not certain,” said Tuvok, “but there may be another presence aboard the Delta Flier.”

Janeway’s eyes widened, and then she closed them.  “Just our luck.  What can you tell me?”

“Very little.  I cannot identify it, but whatever it may be, it appears to have attached itself primarily to you.”

Janeway’s hand stilled in the middle of rubbing her forehead.

“Attached itself to me?”

Tuvok nodded.  “I first noted its presence through a sort of ‘doubling’ of your mental pattern, though that ‘doubling’ has since attached itself to Lieutenant Torres, and more briefly to Seven of Nine.  However, I still believed that it could be a misperception until it attempted to attach itself to me.”

“Is it some kind of parasite?”

“I have no way of knowing.  There is very little I can tell without physical contact, and it does not appear to have a physical form at all.”

Janeway nodded.  “What if it were ‘doubling’ with one of us?  Could you mind-meld with me while it was there and communicate that way?”

Tuvok considered.  “Potentially.  However, without evidence of imminent danger, we should focus on more immediate problems, and address this afterwards, should it persist.  However, I believed you should be aware of the situation.”

Janeway nodded again.  “All right.  Then let’s fix those shields and worry about our mystery mind later.”

Moving past Tuvok, she picked up a tool and knelt beside B’Elanna.  “What’s the first priority back here?” she asked, surveying the damage.

“I’m working on the shields,” said B’Elanna shortly.  “Can you get the compressors?  I get the feeling we’re going to need every last ounce of thrust we can get.”

Janeway nodded and pulled a panel off the nearest compressor.  “Try not to let her get to you,” she said quietly.  “We’re going to need your concentration to get out of this in one piece.”

B’Elanna’s lips tightened.  “Tell your protégé to quit thinking she’s smarter than everyone, and I’ll consider it.”

Janeway sighed.  Part of the problem was that Seven, due to her enhanced memory and processing ability, often _was_ the smartest person in the room, and would consider it inaccurate to pretend otherwise.  She paused to rub away the headache that kept pounding at her skull.

“I’ll see what she can do,” she said, dialing up the repaired compressor back up to full capacity and starting on the next.  “But in the mean time, I need you to work with her.”

B’Elanna slammed another hatch closed.  “I’ll see what I can do.”

Janeway suppressed a sigh.  That had better be enough.

“Five minutes to initiating event,” said Tuvok from where he was working on repairing the aft shields, and nowhere near a screen that could have told him that information.

“Shields at seventy-two percent,” said B’Elanna, “but if you can give me two more minutes, I can get you another ten percent.”  Her fingers flew across a touchscreen as she spoke.

The shuttle trembled slightly.  “The safe zone is shrinking,” said Seven.  “It will soon become too small for the shuttle.  It would be best if you made haste.”

“I _am!_ ” exploded B’Elanna.

“It was merely a statement of fact.”

“Four minutes.”

Janeway turned to B’Elanna.  “Do your best,” she said, and swung forward into her science chair, followed by Tuvok.

B’Elanna gritted her teeth.  “Shields at eighty-seven percent,” she said, “and that’s as good as it’s gonna get.  Let’s see if those Borg reflexes can’t get us out on that.”

“Plotting course to avoid the worst of the ion storm and the waves,” said Janeway.  “Let’s get out of here.”

“Engaging,” said Seven, and the shuttle dove back into the fray.

“Displacement wave at mark one,” said Tuvok.

The shuttle rocked again.

“Shields holding!” called B’Elanna. 

“Secondary displacement waves,” called Tuvok, tapping furiously at his screen. “Originating directly in front of us.”

Seven yanked the shuttle into a sharp dive, but the edges of the waves still clipped them, rocking them violently.

“Shields at fifty-two percent!” shouted B’Elanna.  “Seven’s quick-fix didn’t work on that one!”

“Three minutes to initiating event,” said Tuvok.  “Source of secondary waves unclear.  Sensor disruption is severe, but it appears to be surrounded by a temporal barrier.”

“Captain, the shields can’t handle this!”

“They’re going to have to,” said Janeway, gritting her teeth.

“Alternately, we could attempt to go through the center of the anomaly,” said Seven.

“And cause this?” said Janeway.

“We may not have a choice,” said Tuvok.  “Secondary displacement waves growing stronger.  Two point four minutes.”

“B’Elanna!  Can the shields handle that?”

“No idea,” said B’Elanna, “but if us blowing up over there started this whole mess, then I vote we blow up somewhere else and hope to high hell this whole thing never happens!”

“Two minutes to event.”

Janeway’s head pounded desperately.

“That would be unwise,” said Seven.  “Staying within the loop increases our chances of survival.”

“You don’t know that!  For all you know, we’re already dead in that future, dooming ourselves again here!”

“We have seen no evidence that that is the case.”

“We’ve seen none for your version of events either!”

“You should not—”

“Shut up!” said Janeway, head pounding.  “Seven, we’ll go with your idea.”

“Thirty seconds,” said Tuvok.

“Laying in course,” said Seven.

“See you in hell,” muttered B’Elanna.

Janeway clutched her pounding forehead, and for an instant, her mind was filled with an image of B’Elanna’s face.

Her eyes snapped open.  “Wait!” she called, but the shuttle was already plunging into the sourcepoint at the end of the countdown.

Janeway looked back, and B’Elanna’s face was the last thing she saw as sparks flew and the Delta Flier twisted and vanished around her.

* * *

The universe rent in two and collided with her consciousness.

Impossible colors tasted like inside-out stars, and Janeway’s mind wasn’t made up of anything at all, and everything and nothing happened and didn’t all at once and never and forever.  She flew wildly, or else the universe careened around her solitary mind until some half-formed instinct or pure chance caused her to crash into something familiar.

“Ten degrees to port!”

Janeway’s mind was reeling, and she couldn’t figure out whose voice was echoing through her non-existent skull. 

“Displacement wave at mark seven-ten point one,” said Tuvok, and then Janeway could see.

How she could see, she had no idea, as she wasn’t at all sure she currently possessed eyes, but around her, four figures worked furiously, trying to keep the shuttle alive for another precious minute.

Four figures.

Seven.  Tuvok.  Torres.

Janeway.

With a jolt, Janeway realized that she was not in control of what had to be her own body.

“Starboard thirty degrees,” called the imposter, and Janeway dazedly dove straight at her, determined to evict the imposter—it had to be the mind Tuvok had sensed—

The headache crashed over her perception as she doubled up with the mind inside her skull.

A mind that was wishing she’d had a second cup of coffee that morning.

“Displacement wave to starboard,” cut in Tuvok from his own scanner, and as the shuttle shuddered under Seven’s contradictory orders, Janeway finally understood.

_It’s not her,_ she thought.  _It’s me._

“Please repair compressor 32-A,” said Seven inflectionlessly, and Janeway turned toward her. 

_Seven,_ she called, trying to knock at the door of her mind.  _Can you hear me?_

But if Seven could perceive anything at all, she dismissed it.

“I could keep up a lot better if you didn’t keep blowing them out!” shouted B’Elanna from the back, and Janeway turned her attention toward the other woman. 

B’Elanna…they had tried Seven’s plan.  Janeway would have shaken her head, had she possessed one, trying to force her thoughts into patterns usually controlled by synapses and neurons.  Seven’s plan had only gotten them here.  Maybe this time she could get them to listen to Torres.

Janeway turned and dove through the bodiless space that surrounded her, and awkwardly crashed against B’Elanna’s mind.

She was angry, Janeway found she could tell.  She was angry at Seven.  And as Janeway tried to communicate that Seven’s plan would fail, that anger only grew, but without understanding.

“I thought those Borg reflexes of yours were supposed to prevent this!” spat B’Elanna, and Janeway backpedaled furiously.

No, no, no, that only made things worse!

“My reflexes are operating within normal parameters,” said Seven with guarded venom.

Janeway turned wildly, trying to find some way to undo the damage she’d done, and her attention fell on Tuvok.

_Telepath_ , she thought blindly.  Surely he would be able to hear her.

She dove in the direction of his consciousness.

“Can we get out of the way?” past-Janeway was asking.

“Temporarily,” said Tuvok, but even as he explained his plan in measured tones, Janeway felt another part of his mind turn blindly toward her mental presence.

_Tuvok_ , she tried to call.  _It’s me.  Dammit, it’s me!_

But Tuvok’s searching mind passed right over hers without stopping.

Swallowing a mental curse, Janeway remembered what Tuvok had told her earlier, or what he hadn’t told her yet—he could sense her presence, but nothing more.

Maybe if she ‘doubled’ with herself again, she could get him to mind-meld with her…

…but, of course, that hadn’t happened.  And thus far, everything had happened exactly as before, including a degree of animosity between Seven and B’Elanna that she was quite sure would not have reached that point had she not intervened.

_I hate stable time loops,_ she thought darkly, and dove again at her own mind.  But perhaps she thought it loudly as well, because Tuvok looked up sharply.

Janeway would have tried again, but she was already in motion and could hardly control her mind’s course at all.  She ran headlong into her own mind again.

Future-Janeway’s time-travel headache crashed straight into past-Janeway’s caffeine headache, and both Janeways nearly groaned. 

“Can we get out of range through the safe zone?” asked past-Janeway, fighting off the headache.

Tuvok gave her a contemplative look.

“That would take us straight through the worst of the ion storm.”

Dammit.  There had to be some way for her to make some difference, but it was so hard to think!

“The shields can’t take that right now, captain!” called Torres from the back, and Janeway turned with an order on her nonexistent lips before remembering.

Past-Seven finally mentioned temporal flux, past-Tuvok confirmed the nature of their predicament, and future-Janeway beat at the doors of her own mind, trying to make her presence known.  Unfortunately, all that accomplished was giving her past self more of a headache.

“Standard does not contain enough tenses to cover every eventuality,” Seven was saying, “But the initiating event appears to have yet to have happened.”

Past-Janeway rubbed her forehead.  “Let’s try to be out of here before then.  I do _not_ want to get involved with time travel.  Again.”

Future Janeway firmly echoed the sentiment.

But was there a way to avoid it?  Yes, it had already happened, but that wasn’t necessarily worth much.  Maybe she could still find a way to prevent this from having happened in the first place.  Janeway shook her mental head.  Seven had certainly been right about one thing—Standard definitely didn’t have enough tenses for this.

“Working on it!” B’Elanna was snapping at Seven.  “I don’t see you helping!”

“Nor have you suggested any solutions.”

B’Elanna sat back on her heels.  “Solutions?  Fine.  Since there’s apparently already time travel involved, let’s never have come on this godforsaken mission in the first place!”

Janeway threw herself at her mind again, trying to make herself listen to B’Elanna.  That was the only chance they had left.

Unfortunately, the effort only made her past self associate B’Elanna with a headache, and past-Janeway chose to work with Seven again and send Tuvok to work with B’Elanna.

Janeway pulled away again, and tried to reconsider.  It wasn’t easy—she wasn’t used to holding her mind together on its own without a body to take the slack, and she was getting tired.  The strain of consciously maintaining her selfhood was starting to wear her down.

“...assuming that we are not already involved in the initiating event,” Seven was saying, and Janeway jerked her faltering attention back to the scene in front of/around/below her.

_No, dammit!_ she thought loudly, making her past self’s head throb again.

“An assumption I’m going to make,” said the other Janeway inexorably.  “The last thing we need is to start second-guessing ourselves.”

Janeway pounded against her head.  _Second-guess yourself!_ she shouted.  _Your first guess doesn’t work!_

Tuvok’s attention turned sharply toward them, and Janeway once again pulled back to try and broadcast something his telepathic mind could pick up on.  She felt a flare of hope as he walked toward them, but when he started talking to her past self, she knew that nothing had changed.

“…there may be another presence aboard the Delta Flier.”

_Yes, yes there is_ , thought Janeway.  _And a fat lot of good it’s doing anyone._

Her point of view wavered, and it took more effort than it should have to pull herself back together.  She was so tired.

“…could you mind-meld with me while it was there and communicate that way?”

Maybe if she doubled now?  Would things be different this time?

Janeway tried to move, but everything around her seemed to have hardened into cold molasses.  She pulled herself more tightly together, tightening her perception and finding her second wind.  But it was too late.

“Let’s worry about our mystery mind later.”

Janeway would have frowned.

_No, now sounds good,_ she thought.

But she and Tuvok only walked away from her to help Torres in the back.

Janeway watched as her past self moved to fix the compressors, and tried to remember what had happened the first time around.  Seven and B’Elanna had clashed again, and she was determined not to make it worse this time.  She found she rather hoped she could prevent it by doing nothing.

But whether due to her meddling earlier, or simply a chroniton-driven version of fate, her inaction had no more effect on the timeline than her action had.

“…It would be best if you made haste,” said Seven unalterably, and B’Elanna exploded again that she was doing what she could.

_Dammit,_ thought Janeway.  _Why was I so convinced that Seven knew better than B’Elanna?_

“Shields at eighty-seven percent,” said B’Elanna darkly, and Janeway reached out again.

_Thank you,_ she thought, knowing the other woman couldn’t hear her.

Even so, B’Elanna’s mood lightened a bit.

_Wait,_ thought Janeway, _did I do that?_

Maybe she could, she realized.  If she’d gotten Seven and B’Elanna to snap at each other with her misguided negative emotions, maybe she could get them to work together again.

_Have I mentioned how much I appreciate the work you do lately?_ she thought at B’Elanna, and then turned her perception toward Seven.  _Seven, it’s been rewarding working with you…_

The mood in the cabin seemed to lighten again, but there was so little time left.

Janeway turned her attention in Tuvok’s direction for good measure.  Any second now, he would call out his warning about the secondary displacement waves.

Except, as Janeway noted with alarm, he wasn’t looking at the right thing.  The way his scanners were attuned at the moment, he would never see the secondary waves in time.  They would never have the crucial half-second needed to avoid them.

Janeway threw herself at her Vulcan friend’s mind.

_Look!_ she demanded, forcing an image of the secondary waves as she had seen them. 

He didn’t seem to hear.

It was getting so hard to think.  But he had to see.  He had to see them before they hit.

_Lieutenant Commander Tuvok, I order you to look!_

Something snapped, and Janeway wavered at the sudden lack of resistance.

Tuvok tapped his screen rapidly.  “Secondary displacement waves,” he called.  “Originating directly in front of us.”

The shuttle rocked and lights flickered as Seven only barely managed to avoid the worst of the waves.

“Shields at fifty-two percent!” called B’Elanna.  “Seven’s quick-fix didn’t work on that one!”

Tuvok frowned as he examined the screen.  “Three minutes to initiating event,” he said, but Janeway got the impression that the majority of his attention was elsewhere.  If only she could think…

Janeway wavered again before pulling herself together.  She had a job to do, dammit!  She’d warned them about the displacement waves…maybe…maybe…

“…hope to high hell this whole thing doesn’t happen…”

“…two minutes to event…”

“…staying within the loop increases our chances of survival.”

Janeway jerked.  No!  They’d already tried that!

Using what was left of her strength, she pushed at past-Janeway’s mind again.

_B’Elanna,_ she thought.  _Listen to B’Elanna._

In the background, Seven and B’Elanna argued, and past-Janeway’s headache grew.

“Shut up!” she said.

_No!_

Janeway felt a tug at her mind, but she ignored it.  _Listen to B’Elanna!_

Another tug, stronger.

“Thirty seconds,” said Tuvok, and the tug pulled at Janeway’s mind more strongly.  She fought it.  No!  She had to stay!

The tug was insistent, but Janeway threw herself forward one last time hitting her past mind with the force of a canonshot.

_B’Elanna!_

And B’Elanna’s face was the last thing that appeared in her past self’s mind as the shuttle twisted and vanished around them.

* * *

“See you in hell,” muttered B’Elanna as the shuttle made the final dive toward the sourcepoint.

Janeway’s hand flew to her head.  “Wait!” she called, but it was too late.  Sparks flew from complaining panels as the shuttle flirted with nonexistence as it twisted impossibly through space that flowed with non-quantum light forms.

And then they were through.

The shuttle snapped back to its normal proportions around them, and even the lights came back up.

Janeway’s body crumpled to the floor.

“Captain!” shouted Torres.

The shuttle rocked again.

“The primary displacement waves have reversed temporal polarity,” said Seven, tapping her screen.  “Adjusting shields to compensate.”

The shuttle gave another tremendous shudder.

“What about the secondary waves?” called Tuvok as he bent to check on Janeway’s unmoving body. 

“They do not appear to exist on this side of the temporal event.  Exiting storm zone.  Primary waves decreasing in reverse pattern.  Entering new hourglass safe zone.” 

“What happened to the captain?” demanded Torres from the back before slamming closed one hatch and opening another.

Seven brought the shuttle to a halt and turned to face the rest of the crew.

“I may know,” said Tuvok, frowning slightly, “but if I am correct, it will not be easy to get her back.”

“Back?” said Torres, closing the last hatch and coming forward.  “Back from where?  She’s right here!”

“Her body is.  Her mind is not.”

“Then where is her mind?” asked Seven.

“Unfortunately, I believe the more apt word is ‘when’.”

There was a beat, and then B’Elanna cursed in Klingon.

“Just when I thought we’d actually lived through this thing.  How do we go back and get her?”

“There is still significant temporal flux in the area,” said Seven.  “If we re-enter the chroniton field, we may be able to ride the timestream back to the correct point.”  She turned back to Tuvok.  “What causes you to believe that her mind is trapped in the past?”

“I sensed her,” said Tuvok.  “Her presence was with us almost since the primary waves hit, but I did not begin to guess the truth until that presence warned me of the existence of the secondary waves.”

B’Elanna frowned.  “Warned you?”

“A faint mental image,” said Tuvok.  “But we must go back before the chroniton levels fade.”

“Is that gonna be possible?”

Seven was examining her screen.  “It seems we may have already done so.”

B’Elanna slammed a hand against her forehead.  “The secondary displacement waves,” she muttered.  “If the primary waves were us travelling through the sourcepoint just now…”

“And if we were and will be travelling backwards, that could explain why the secondary waves do not exist on this side of the event.”

“And why the phase variance is different!”

“Which could also be related to our altered shields.”

Tuvok nodded at them.  “If the two of you can get us back to the correct point, I hope to be able to recapture the captain’s mind.”

“When do we need to aim for?” asked Torres, swinging into the sensor chair Tuvok had vacated.

“The waves will have been travelling ‘backward’,” cut in Seven.  “We may have and will arrive just after that point.”

“Between then and the initiating event itself,” added Tuvok.  “It is unlikely that the captain’s mind could survive the flux unshielded.”

Torres tapped the screen.  “Got it.  If we adjust the phase variance of the shields—again—we should be able to take advantage of the chroniton flux at the sourcepoint.  The tricky part will be looping back out and re-entering our personal timestream.  Those borg reflexes up to it?”

“Naturally,” said Seven.  “Likewise, I assume that your usual stubbornness will be fully operational.”

B’Elanna grinned, showing teeth.  “You can bet on it.  Let’s get the captain.”

Tuvok knelt near Janeway’s head, and Seven engaged the thrusters.  “Re-entering chroniton flux zone,” she said.

The Flier twisted as it hit the border, and impossible colors flowed around and through and between and beside it.

“T plus six…four…one…mark!” shouted B’Elanna, and the shuttle crashed back into something like normal space-time.  “There we are!”

“I am aware of that, lieutenant,” said Seven, but this time B’Elanna ignored her.

“Shields holding!” she called.  “Temporal flux within acceptable parameters.  Can you get us any closer?”

“Attempting.”

On the screen before them, the past Delta Flier flickered like a mirage, fighting the current they were washing toward it and unable to see them though the shower of impossible colors.

Seven arced her Flier past the paper-mache one on the viewscreen, trying to get close enough for Tuvok to find the captain.

“Shields destabilizing,” said B’Elanna.  “Attempting to compensate.  Tuvok, we close enough yet?”

Tuvok, eyes closed, didn’t answer.

“…right,” Torres muttered. “Mind meld.  Got it.”

“We cannot get much closer,” said Seven, fighting the controls for mastery of their speed and direction.  “If we break through the temporal barrier entirely, we will become visible to them.”

“Which didn’t happen,” muttered B’Elanna.  “Are you sure you _don’t_ want to take that risk, though?”

“…let us try without that risk first.”

“…right,” said B’Elanna.  “Let’s not live through this more times than we have to.”  She looked at her screen.  “Sixty seconds to initiating event.  You ready to pull us out?”

“Does Tuvok have the captain?”

“I don’t know, but if we’re not on our way out when he gets her, bad things happen.  Fifteen seconds.”

Seven threw the shuttle into a tight loop that seemed to very nearly scrape the hull of the other Flier.

“Re-entering chroniton flux field,” she called, and for the third—and first—time, the Delta Flier vanished into a shower of temporal sparks, past the ghost of their own recent trip backwards through the void.

* * *

Tuvok knelt down beside Janeway’s prone body.  Ignoring the outward shaking of the shuttle, he raised a hand to the side of her face.

“My mind to your mind,” he said in a low voice, and then the twisting colors of the space around them was replaced by the twisting blackness behind Janeway’s eyes.

Tuvok rode the waves of emptiness, searching for the spark of connection he believed must be there.  Her empty body would call to her, but not loudly enough.

_Captain,_ he called to the emptiness.

Time rippled again as the Delta Flier ripped through the chroniton field and sent secondary displacement waves careening toward itself.

The dead connection between Janeway’s body and mind flared to a tiny point of brilliant life, and Tuvok sent his mind toward the tethered spark.

_Captain,_ he called again, but she did not hear him.

Tuvok reached for the spark, tugging at it mentally, trying to show Janeway the way home.

Janeway resisted, pulling back towards the crew whose presence she was aware of.

_Captain, you must come with me._   Tuvok tugged more insistently, needing to get there out of there before the Flier hit the time in flux.  It had been rough enough on the three of them, and from what he could sense, Janeway’s mind was already fighting dissolution.  But still, she pulled back.

_Captain!_

Janeway’s mind threw itself toward her past self, and just as the shuttle hit the time vortex, she knocked her own past mind loose.

The link between body and mind shuddered with the timestream and threatened to darken.  Tuvok threw his mental strength into the breach, pulling as hard as he could, trying to guide Janeway’s wayward mind home.

* * *

Time rushed around her, buffeting her and threatening to rip apart her fragile control of selfhood.

The tug she was stronger now, a steady pull that cut though the tempest around her.

“…on our way out…”

“…chroniton flux field…”

What?  Who?

_Captain._

Where?

_Captain._

There was a final dizzying rush, and then Janeway found herself catapulting into the darkness behind her own eyes.

The mother of all headaches hit between her eyes with a vengeance born of every broken promise of staying within linear time.  Janeway groaned and then forced her eyes open through it.

“Captain,” said Tuvok aloud.  “It is good to have you back.”

Janeway let her eyes scrunch up against the supernova that had somehow replaced the Flier’s normal lighting system.

“What…happened?” she managed.  “Ship…safe?”

“We’re fine, Captain,” said B’Elanna.  “Thanks to Seven’s reckless piloting.  And your warning, apparently.”

Janeway took a breath, relishing the taste of recycled air, and slowly sat up.  “What happened?” she said again.  “I saw the shuttle destroyed, and I wasn’t able to change anything.”

“A misperception,” said Seven.

“The shuttle wasn’t destroyed,” B’Elanna said, nodding.  “It sure felt like it was, but it pulled through.”  She patted a bulkhead encouragingly.

Janeway shook her head.  “Then why was I sent back?”

“If you mean a more metaphysical ‘why’,” said Tuvok, “then I cannot help you.  However, if you mean ‘why you and not us’, that was due to your own presence in the timeline.  You knocked your own mind loose just as we hit the worst of the temporal disturbance.”

Janeway rubbed her head, remembering.  “Thus convincing myself that I had to change things.  Brilliant.”  She looked up.  “If I hadn’t, things probably would have turned out just as well, and a lot more easily.”

“If you had not warned me about the secondary displacement waves, we likely would have sustained a direct hit,” pointed out Tuvok.

“The shields definitely couldn’t have handled that,” added Torres.  “…though then again, that was us coming back for you.”

Janeway shook her head, torn between sighing and laughing.  Her lips twitched, and she settled on a sour smile.

“Well,” she said, “as my mother used to say, all’s well that ends with nobody dead or in the hospital.”

“We even obtained a small amount of deuterium before the waves hit,” added Seven.

“Good enough for me,” said Janeway, finally deciding that her feet could get her to a more suitable location and moving to one of the science consoles.  “Let’s go home.”

* * *

Captain’s log, personal.

The deuterium wasn’t worth it.


End file.
